


she could never have imagined

by kira_katrine



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Family, Gen, Missing Scene, background michael/book, episode s03e13: That Hope Is You part II, other characters show up briefly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kira_katrine/pseuds/kira_katrine
Summary: As Michael steps into being captain, the rest of the crew is with her.As is someone else. Someone she'd never thought would ever see this day.
Relationships: Gabrielle Burnham & Michael Burnham
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	she could never have imagined

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Michael's meeting with Admiral Vance, but before that ending scene with everyone on the bridge. I'd been hoping Gabrielle would actually show up again at some point in the finale, but she didn't, so I wrote a little scene fixing that.

A part of Michael had been a little nervous about how the crew would react to the news of her promotion.

Book, of course, had never given her any cause to worry. In the past, he hadn’t completely understood Michael’s desire to be part of Starfleet at all, but even then, he’d been willing to go along with it if it made Michael happy. But he was part of the crew now, counted just as much as any of them, and the smile on Michael’s face as she’d told him what had happened in her meeting with Admiral Vance was all he seemed to need. “It suits you,” he’d said to her, beaming right back. “And I’m here, wherever this leads you.”

Tilly had practically tackled Michael in a hug when she found out. “I knew it!” she’d nearly shrieked. “I knew that’s why he wanted to meet with you! Holy hell, that’s amazing--I can’t believe  _ my roommate _ is the  _ captain _ !”

The rest of the bridge crew had been a bit more subdued than that, but had still congratulated her warmly. Reno said something about not letting it go to her head before clapping Michael on the shoulder, seeming unable to stop herself from giving an actual genuine smile. Doctor Pollard had raised an eyebrow and said Michael had better not take this as an excuse to keep on throwing herself into unnecessary danger. Culber had reassured Michael that this was Pollard’s way of saying  _ wow, that’s fantastic, I know you’ll be great _ (which Michael knew to be true from the small smile that flickered over Pollard’s face as he said it), before wrapping Michael in one of his famously warm hugs. 

(She knew she couldn’t avoid him, or Stamets. That wasn’t something captains could do. That wasn’t something she, as a person, believed right.)

She hadn’t said anything to Saru yet. She wasn’t entirely sure what was appropriate. She knew he was probably busy, that he might not always be able to receive communications where he was for all she knew. She also knew that, according to Admiral Vance, he’d been the one to recommend she be captain in the first place, so surely he couldn’t be upset with her for accepting. That it wasn’t reasonable--wasn’t logical, as she once might have said--to be concerned. But part of her still was. She wanted to do right by him.

And of course, there were all those she’d left behind. Sarek and Amanda. Spock. Philippa-- _ both of them, now _ . She could only imagine what any of them would say.

When she’d served on the Shenzhou, she’d imagined one day getting her own command. She’d always pictured her adoptive parents being there--Amanda glowing with pride, Sarek his usual impassive self but still letting Michael know that what she’d done mattered, even if it wasn’t his way. She’d never been able to find out if that was how he really would have felt, though knowing how he’d reacted to Spock’s joining Starfleet, she’d suspected it to be wishful thinking. And even in her wishful thinking, she hadn’t been able to picture Spock turning up at all. Not back then.

And of course, she’d thought of the people she’d come to think of as another family--the crew of the Shenzhou, and Captain Georgiou in particular. Almost ( _almost_ ) more than actually commanding a starship, she’d imagined the day when she would have proven conclusively to Georgiou that she could. Even so, she knew she could never have learned absolutely everything there was to learn from her captain, that there would always be more, that perhaps she’d never feel completely ready to move on to other things. But back then she’d always assumed that, even if they were no longer serving together, Georgiou would be no more than a subspace comm away, that she’d never have to leave her behind for good.

And then there had been the two people she’d known would never see that day, if and when it came. The two people she’d spent years trying to make herself forget, because to keep holding onto them was not logical, because to remember them would hurt too much. Her first family, Mom and Dad, who’d set her on the path to Starfleet before she even knew it.

But now, here she was, and here one of them was. Standing on the transporter pad, looking down at Michael with decades’ worth of love and missed opportunities in her eyes, very much alive. 

“Mom,” Michael whispered. 

“I heard the news,” her mother said. She stepped down from the transporter pad, embracing her daughter. Michael wrapped her own arms around her mother, holding her tightly--even now that they’d been reunited, that she had no reason to think they’d be separated again, a part of her still couldn’t quite believe it to be true. “Captain of the Discovery. Well done.”

“Thank you,” Michael said. “Thank you so much. For everything.”

“You found your place, it seems,” her mother said. “But then, I knew you would.”

“I did,” Michael said. “I wasn’t sure I could do it, could be captain, before--”

“I’ve seen you do it before,” her mother said. “It was never a question of whether or not you  _ could. _ ”

Michael couldn’t help but wonder what her mother had seen. If it was anything like Michael herself had imagined. She didn’t think she should ask; it probably wasn’t anything her mother would want to relive.

And in any case, she knew every possibility her mother had seen must have ended the same way. Control had wiped out everything. There were some things, it seemed, that no one could do anything about.

_ I could, in the end. But not always. Not every time. _

“I’ve never captained a starship, of course,” her mother went on, as they left the transporter room and started down the hall. “But I am still your mother, and I’m sure you know where this is going.” Michael smiled--she did know, didn’t she? It was a wonderful feeling. “I spent years alone. I dedicated myself to a mission I had no choice but to complete alone. At some point I forgot any other way was possible.” She paused, looked directly at Michael. “Don’t do that.”

Michael blinked. “I know I’m not alone,” she said. “And I know I can do this, now. But I did wonder, after I left that meeting--I’m going to  _ feel _ alone a lot of the time, aren’t I? Just as I did before. I already had to look a crewmate in the eye and tell him his loved ones were going to die, because of a decision I had to make--”

“But they didn’t, did they?”

“No,” said Michael. “But that was just because we were lucky, wasn’t it?”

“You tell me,” said her mother. “I wasn’t on Discovery then. Nor was I in that nebula. Was it?”

Michael thought back to those things no one could do anything about. She’d thought leaving the away team in the nebula was one of them--and in a way, it had been. She didn’t regret her choice. She knew what surely would have happened if Osyraa had been able to operate the spore drive. How deeply she would have regretted  _ that _ .

But at the same time, it wasn’t--because Michael hadn’t been the only factor in the outcome. Book had them. Tilly and the bridge crew had them. Adira had them. Michael’s mother had them, had made sure the Ni’Var fleet turned up at just the right time. None of them were ever alone.

“You called this crew your family,” her mother said. “And perhaps I don’t know as much about that as I might have--but I’d like to think I know something. If they really are that to you, if they truly deserve to be called that, they will work with you. You will be able to trust them. Even to make their own choices, at times--as you yourself have done. And I don’t think you could have accepted this promotion of yours if you didn’t believe it.”

Michael nodded. “I’m trying to believe it,” she said.

“You must look at yourself truthfully,” Michael’s mother said. “And you must recognize both that which you are, and that which you are not. It is a process that never ends, Michael--I’m still doing it myself. And you must look at others as well--for what you are not, someone else is.”

“I will,” Michael said. 

“All those around you are learning too,” said her mother. “They are learning to do the same for you. And that will matter just as much.”

“I never thought you’d be here for this,” Michael said. “That we’d be having this conversation.”

“I know.” They stopped walking; Michael’s mother put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Even with everything we’ve been through, somehow the stars aligned.”

“I used to talk to you,” Michael whispered. “Back in my first few years on Vulcan. I used to pretend you could hear me.”

“Oh, Michael,” her mother said. “I could. I heard you, and it broke my heart that you never knew. I understood why you stopped--”

“I’m not sure I ever did,” Michael said. “I couldn’t say it out loud anymore--and after a while, I stopped even saying the words to myself--but you were always with me no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise.”

Michael’s mother pulled Michael into her arms once more. “I will always be with you,” she said.

“I’m glad I don’t have to pretend anymore,” Michael said.

“I am too,” her mother said. “I am, too.”


End file.
